Dawn
by Chiisana Minako
Summary: Because season one finale 1x23 was the pivotal moment when a shift took place and things were silently acknowledged. And how could it not, considering the turn of events. Rated T for swearing. Romance if you squint.


**Dawn – by Chiisana Minako.**

**A/N: **Fun fact! This was written in bed on a sketchbook (at 5am). Insomnia is evil, I tell you. I hope I can write a lot more, this fandom is so amazing, it has tons of stuff to analyze and obsess over. I want to reconnect with that writing spark inside of me! (Ok that was corny lol).

This is different from anything I've written before (both English and Spanish), so I'm anxious to know what you think of it!

I wanna thank and dedicate this one to Yaba, because she's incredibly supportive and awesome. Her betaing is so efficient, too : )

**Set up at the final moments of 1x23 Red John's footsteps. **

FYI: Birdshot is the kind of ammunition I'm almost positive that particular rifle had.

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* * *

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Lisbon didn't get it. No one did actually, and that was okay, but for some reason the fact that _she_ didn't, bothered him a little.

"You'd be dead,"

("But you would have Red John.")

It wasn't that he hated life –far from it, but his life stopped being important the day his egotistic persona and Red John's fury connected. It wasn't his life to live anymore; he didn't have the right after what happened to his family.

In his darkest hours, Jane came to one conclusion: even if he wasn't the one holding the knife, he might as well have been the one wielding the weapon. No amount of therapy would fix that, though he did appreciate Sophie for trying. She gave him purpose to carry on, strength to execute his plans of revenge (seeking justice to be served).

Jane himself was guilty too. He lived every day in hell knowing that.

"I don't think you mean what you say. I think you'd choose life."

Sweet innocent Lisbon, kudos to her for staying positive. Actually, sometimes he marveled at how genuinely she thought things –him- could be fixed, that things could be different.

"Can't you see there are people who care about you, who need you? You're being selfish and childish and I want you to stop it."

There was something about the way she said _need_, the raw honesty in her eyes, the bruise starting to form on her jaw from where Dumar had hit her, yet it was the way her voice seemed so close to the breaking point as she kept talking that got to him.

"We saved a life." Lisbon was trying to encourage him, to cheer him up, but the subtle trembling of her voice was still there. He couldn't have that.

"Yes, we did. Yeah, hurray for us."

Getting her angry was way better. It was something that happened very often too, maybe a different kind of angry, but he couldn't handle if she cried –if _he_ made her cry. Right on cue, she walked out after looking at him in disbelief. It was better that way.

For the shortest of moments he wanted to believe her words. He couldn't let that happen, his resolve couldn't have the faintest fissure.

Sitting in the dark alone again brought unpleasant memories, the echo of his own footsteps climbing up the stairs. Perhaps it was his subconscious trying to seek punishment for today's failure.

Jane looked at his hands then, flexing his fingers and watching their movement intently. As his vision started to blur, he allowed one small smile to tug at his lips, realizing he wasn't brushing his daughter's hair, nor was she there. She'd never be there again.

One of the sirens brought him back to reality and ignoring the little wet stains on his pants, he got up, mask taking its usual place. He could consent to one tiny slip-up but he wasn't (he couldn't) dwell on that anymore. The night air blew gently on his face as he got out of the house.

Maybe Lisbon was right, maybe Hardy would tell them something (remotely) useful. He didn't really believe that, but figured he would try, what was there to lose? Red John had already taken everything from him, even his desire to live. Even if Jane died looking for him, he'd make sure to leave clues for others to find, for them to catch the son of a bitch.

He had absolutely nothing to lose.

_Nothing._

Suddenly, a firing sound echoed from a gun. A gun shot by Hardy, and all of a sudden Lisbon was held at gunpoint.

Lisbon.

Next thing he knew, his index finger was pressing a trigger and a load of birdshot found their way to Dumar's stomach and chest with a resounding noise.

The injured man spit blood, crawling without a specific destination. Jane would never forget the feeling of throwing away the rifle, the sound of it crashing to the ground, echoing as if the atmosphere was silent.

As he and Lisbon got closer to the bloodied man, Jane knew Dumar was going to die without saying a word. Fuck, he had known that from the start.

He'd just never thought he would be the one ending Red John's minion's life.

* * *

A part of him was disappointed Hardy died that quickly, the bastard deserved to suffer and be punished, the slower, the better. As dark and twisted as that thought was, it kept Jane from really questioning his motives. He'd never held a gun in his life, much less a rifle, so why he had automatically picked it from the ground was still a mystery, as was his lack of hesitation. He'd obviously never killed before, and even cops had trouble doing it when they needed to, especially for the first time.

He never intended to kill him, but he knew very well that as soon as he saw the threat, he wanted to harm Dumar very badly.

Jane didn't think. It was all protective instincts kicking in. He didn't have those even when it came to his own life, then why–

Lisbon.

He'd done such a great job blocking everything out, he didn't realize she had one hand on his back and they were walking. She was guiding him to the car. He would have said something or brushed her off but noticed how much her hands were shaking.

While riding in the car to where he assumed Maya's home was, he stole a glance at Lisbon, beside him. She hadn't stayed in shock as he did. She even managed to make him listen to her while being in shock. The woman was amazing, how she kept everything together was beyond his understanding. Sure her pupils were dilated and her whole body was shaking slightly, but that was just the adrenaline.

He honestly didn't care what happened to him, but… he knew she cared. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge that, but when she spelt it out for him, it made it a lot more difficult to overlook.

And after he shot a man for her –and not just any man- without hesitation, it was really hard to ignore how much he cared for her, too. Not impossible to avoid, but really, really hard.

You'd think he'd resent her, even hate her a little for make him choose... but the thing was that she didn't do it. Lisbon would have never thought he'd shoot someone and save her life in the process, saving her life in exchange for Hardy's. Jane hadn't expected it either, it just... happened. When he felt her shudder beside him, he knew he had no regrets. If he had to, he'd do it again.

Indulging in one moment of weakness, he brushed his hand against hers, holding two of her fingers for a few seconds, just enough so they connected, and her fingers curled automatically in response. She was warm and still a bit shaky.

His hand gripped tighter before letting go, allowing her to get out of the car to do her job. Maya ran to her loved ones. After closing the door for Lisbon, he hid his hands in his pockets, trying to conceal how intimate their brief skin contact had felt, and while she took a couple of steps closer to the family gathering, he seized the opportunity to get some space, leaving the scene, after awkwardly nodding to Maya's father.

Jane had things to think about. He was alive, _she_ was alive, and warm, and _safe_.

He picked up an orange from a nearby tree and relished in the naturally refreshing citrus smell.

_The smaller things in life..._

His lips tilted upwards so slightly it was barely noticeable. Damn that woman.

_... the things that make the everyday-life worth living._


End file.
